


the bleached bone of memory

by nasa



Series: memory [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Dementia, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic, or is it????
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-16 00:37:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18510364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nasa/pseuds/nasa
Summary: Tony starts losing his place in time.





	the bleached bone of memory

**Author's Note:**

> this does deal with themes of dementia but it does NOT have any ultimately permanent memory loss involved

Later, Tony will remember the first morning as almost normal. It’s a Tuesday, and he’s got a Board Meeting, so he wakes up early to shower and get dressed. He uses Steve’s body wash and shampoo because his own are almost out, and then he takes the time to carefully trim and shave his beard. There’s a little more grey in it than he remembers, and he thinks that he should probably get some hair dye for it, but not today.

He dresses in Steve’s favorite suit, which is sleek and black and hugs Tony’s hips just right. He picks a blue tie patterned with red flowers, and after a quick dabbing of cologne, he’s ready to go.

Steve’s out in the kitchen when Tony emerges, looking for his mug of coffee. “Hey, honey,” he says, giving Steve an absent kiss on his way to the cupboard.

“Hey,” Steve says, but he’s frowning as he looks at Tony. “What’s the get up for?”

Tony raises an eyebrow at him. “It’s Tuesday,” he says, and when Steve continues to look blank, adds, “The first Tuesday of the month? It’s board meeting day.”

Steve’s expression flickers. “But - I thought you said you weren’t going to those anymore.”

Tony makes a face. “What are you talking about? Is this some ploy to get me to take my clothes off and join you in bed? Because it’s not gonna work, mister.”

Steve shakes his head. “No, really,” he says, “Don’t you remember, you said -“

“That I have a board meeting to go to,” Tony interrupts. He screws the lid on his travel mug and takes a sip - perfect. “I really gotta go, honey, I’m running late. Be back for dinner - maybe we can go out?” He ducks in for a quick goodbye kiss, which is shorter and colder than usual, but Tony doesn’t think too much of it. Steve’s never been a morning person, and right now, he still looks half-asleep. “See you at six, honey.”

Then he’s gone, leaving Steve frowning in the kitchen. He doesn’t realize it at the time, but that’s the beginning. Without context, it could be normal, the forgetfulness, but in context it forms a pattern: the first step down in an endless spiral staircase that the two of them will walk, hand in hand, reluctant or eager, together.

-

“Where are my basketball shoes?”

Steve frowns at Tony. “Basketball shoes?”

Tony sighs. “Yes, my basketball shoes, the things I wear when I play basketball? I know you’ve seen them, honey, you’ve made fun of them before.”

“But the doctor said your hip -“

“Oh, here they are!” Tony tugs the shoes from the back of his closet, where they’re buried under loafers and boots. “Never mind. This’ll be good, I haven’t played basketball in a while.”

He turns to offer Steve a smile, sure Steve will be happy about Tony getting some much-needed exercise, but he’s still frowning. “Are you feeling okay?” Steve asks, and Tony frowns.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Steve keeps frowning, but he doesn’t seem to have an answer.

-

“Steve? Honey, are you home?”

“In here!”

Tony follows the sound of his husband’s voice into the kitchen where Steve stands over a bubbling pot on the stove. “Ooh, dinner? Smells good. You’ll never believe the conversation I just had with Pepper.”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah? Tell me about it.”

“Okay, so we were talking about the merger, right? And I was saying, hey, Pep, does this name look familiar to you, and it was one of the names of the people we were meeting from the other company to confirm everything. And she just went  _red._ Like, I’ve never seen her go that red before, I swear she matched her hair. And I prod and I probe for a while because, you know, I’m me, and she says that it’s actually an  _ex-boyfriend._ Apparently, they dated in college, some nasty breakup, and Pepper said -“

“You’ve already told me this story.”

Tony makes a face at the interruption. “What? How could I? It happened like, ten minutes ago, Steve, keep up. Anyway, Pepper said -“

Steve stays for the rest of the conversation, but he doesn’t look like he’s listening. He looks worried.

-

“When did the Tower get fixed?”

It’s a Sunday morning, and Tony’s woken up late, having slept in to make up for an engineering binge the day before. Wha the finds, though, when he emerges into his and Pepper’s shared living quarters is surprising - windows gleaming and whole, not shattered or cracked or covered with duct tape and tarps, the whole room free of debris and, instead, filled with soft, homey furniture that Tony doesn’t recognize. “Pepper?”

There’s movement from the area of the recliner, and that’s when Tony notices that Steve’s sitting there, wrapped in a blanket, his book in his lap. He looks older than when Tony last saw him, Tony thinks, face lined in a way it didn’t used to be, and what the hell has happened since Tony saw him last?

“Steve?” he asks, frowning. Steve’s expression is hard to read in the dark of the room, but Tony thinks it mostly just looks blank. “What are you doing in my house? Where’s Pepper?”

-

Things continue, in the same odd fashion. One morning, Tony goes looking for some ice and finds a pair of his favorite socks in the freezer. Another he comes home from work and finds his bedroom entirely redecorated, painted a different hue, filled with different furniture than it had been just this morning. Tony doesn’t even know how they got the paint to try so fast. One afternoon, he finds himself in the shower and can’t remember how he got there. The last thing he remembered, he was on the street in New York, heaving uneven breaths in his shattered suit, staring up at the sky where only moments ago there was a wormhole ready to swallow him, and now -

It feels strange, but there’s not much he can do about it. It’s an itch under his skin, a shimmer in the corner of his eye. Something feels off, here, but he can’t pinpoint what. It must just be his brain getting the best of him. He does have an overactive mind, after all; he’s just imagining it.

-

One night, Tony wakes up and finds Steve shaking in bed beside him. “Steve?” he murmurs, voice thick and warped with sleep. “Hey, honey, did you have a nightmare?”

Steve shakes his head, but he’s got one hand covering his face. “Go back to sleep,” he says, voice muffled.

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong,” Tony says, laying one hand on Steve’s back. Steve flinches under Tony’s touch, just for a moment, before he’s relaxing back into it. “Honey, you’re scaring me. What is it?”

Steve shakes his head again, and, finally, lowers his hand. His face is red and puffy like he’s been crying for a long time, and, not for the first time, Tony curses his ability to sleep so soundly. “You’re right,” Steve croaks. “It was just a nightmare.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Tony snuggles up against Steve’s back, splaying one hand across his belly. “You want to tell me about it?”

Steve sighs, a ghostly noise. “You were falling away from me,” he rasps. “Bit by bit, and then I looked up, and you were gone.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Tony says. It’s meant to be reassuring, but Steve just stiffens in Tony’s arms. He hugs Steve a little tighter, starts stroking circles on Steve’s chest in an attempt to get him to relax. “Feel me, honey. I’m here.”

Steve doesn’t say anything else. Despite his best efforts, Tony ends up falling back asleep before either of them say another word.

-

It all comes to a head when Thor comes to visit.

It’s unexpected, but then, Thor had never exactly needed an invitation. “Thor,” Tony says when he sees him, coming over to give him a brief but strong hug. “Hey. Where have you been? We’ve been missing you.”

Thor tilts his head. “I was on Asgard. Do you not recall? I was dealing with the matter of succession of our new lands.”

Tony makes a face. “New lands? What new lands? Did you guys take over another realm and forget to tell me?”

“Thor.”

The voice comes from behind Tony, and Tony turns to find Steve in the doorway. “Hey, honey,” Tony says. “Look! Thor’s back! His room’s probably covered in dust by now but, whatever, we can get the cleaning bot in there. Did you know he was coming?”

“No,” Steve says, eyes meeting Thor’s over Tony’s head.

“Steve,” Thor says. His voice is deep and troubled, and it’s disconcerting, enough that Tony turns towards the fridge, starts rummaging through it for nothing in particular. “What’s happened?”

Steve sighs, the sound like wind passing through a reed’s lips. “It came on fast,” he says. “They said - normally it takes longer, to progress. But it’s early-onset. He’s in 2012 right now.”

What the fuck are they talking about? It is 2012.

“The last time I saw him, he was fine.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Tony sees Steve make a half-aborted shrug. “It’s - like I said. It’s faster than normal.”

Tony finds his yogurt and turns to find a spoon, but the first drawer he opens is filled with junk, not the silverware. Who rearranged the kitchen on him?

“You gotta tell Bruce to stop anxiety-organizing,” Tony says, moving on to the next drawer. Kitchen spoons. Closer, then. “Or at least give us all a tour of the kitchen after he does. This is the third time this week, it’s annoying.”

Steve nods, offering Tony the ghost of a smile. Tony wonders what’s wrong, to make him smile like that - but maybe he’s just tired.

“I’ll let him know,” Steve says.

Beside him, Thor is still frowning. “There is something wrong, here,” he says. “It’s - his aura, I can feel it. It is tainted, twisted. Manipulated.”

Steve blinks, brow furrowing as he turns to look at Thor. “What do you mean?”

Thor shakes his head. For once, Tony thinks, he looks like the king that he is - grave-faced and regal, face carved with lines just as surely as the ancient statues Tony’s mother had been fond of showing him photos of as a boy.

“I mean that this is not natural,” Thor says. “We must speak to Dr. Strange.”

-

“Where are we going?” Tony asks. They’re in a car, sleek insides, black, plush leather. It looks like something he could own, but he doesn’t remember buying it.

The man beside him smiles at him. His hair looks soft, Tony thinks; he is abruptly sure that, were he to run his fingers through it, it would tickle his palms.

“We’re going to a doctor, sweetheart,” he says.

Tony makes a face. “Why? I don’t need a doctor, I’m just fine. And, anyway, who sent you? Was it Pepper? I told her I’m fine, it was a minor concussion at best and Dummy said he’s sorry.”

The expression on the man’s face flickers, there and gone, so fast Tony wonders if he imagined it.

“This is important to her,” the man says, turning to look out the window. “Please, just go along with it.”

The man looks so sad. He doesn’t care about Tony, no, but Tony can’t bring himself to make his life any more difficult. He settles back into his seat.

-

“You’re right,” Strange says, dropping his hands from where they’ve been probing at the air - sorry,  _aura -_ around Tony. “It’s magic.”

Beside Tony, Steve just blinks, face oddly blank. Thor, though, nods and pats Tony on the back. “Just as I suspected,” he says. “Is it a curse you yourself can lift, or shall I take him to the halls of Asgard?”

Strange’s mouth twists, as though offended by the implication that there’s someone better than him. “I’m perfectly capable of lifting the spell,” he says. “I would have noticed it myself, if I’d seen him, but it’s been a while.”

Tony glances over at Steve, but he’s not looking at anyone, just staring down at his hand in Tony’s, grip tight.

“Anyway,” Strange continues, “I’ll need a few ingredients. Be back in a moment.” And he disappears.

For a beat, there is silence. Then, Thor speaks up. “This is great news, Steve,” he says. “But you do not look pleased.”

Steve shakes his head, still not looking up. “No, it’s - you’re right, it is great news. If it’s real.”

Thor raises an eyebrow. “If it’s real?”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Steve says.

“Well, I may have no idea what’s going on, but I’m sure Strange can figure it out,” Tony offers. “He’s the Wizard Supreme, after all.”

Steve just shakes his head again. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Strange reappears a moment later, setting a bowl full of some sort of poultice down on the table beside them. “This should only take a moment,” he says. “The memories may be disconcerting at first, but they should settle quickly.”

“Is anyone going to tell me what we’re actually doing before we do it?” Tony asks. “I mean, I trust Steve and all, I do, but I’d kind of, you know, like to know what this is if it’s an option.”

But Strange shakes his head. “It will be easier for all of us if you just wait until the spell is removed,” he says. “It’ll all make sense, then.”

And then, without waiting for Tony’s confirmation or consent, he dips his hands in the concoction - which, honestly, looks kind of like green salsa, now that Tony’s thinking about it - and mutters something under his breath.

The effect is instantaneous. Tony would say he feels like he’s been hit by a train, but a train isn’t strong enough: he’s been hit by a Thor, by a Hulk. The world blacks out around the edges, and Tony has to squeeze Steve’s hand to stay grounded. The last few years slam into his mind, all at once, including the brand-new memories of the last few months. Tony, waking up in a foreign bed and asking Steve what club he picked him up at last night. Tony, heading down to his workshop to build his first ever learning bot only to find it already built and beeping at him. Tony, asking Steve to marry him again, once, twice, three times.

“Oh,  _honey,”_ he hears himself say. Everything makes so much sense, now - Steve’s half-smiles, his empty eyes, the trembling of his hands when they touched. “Sweetheart.”

And the room is coming back into focus now: Strange’s expectant look, Thor’s careful appraisal, and Steve burning, potent hope. “Tony,” Steve says carefully, but his voice is shaking, and his eyes are wet. “What do you remember?”

Tony shakes his head. “Everything,” he says. He’s squeezing Steve’s hand so hard his palm is getting sweaty and he doesn’t care. “I - oh, honey, I remember everything, I promise. The last few years, and the last few, really shitty months -“

“What year is it?” Strange asks.

“2019,” Tony answers without hesitation, and watches the way Steves shoulder’s relax with relief. “I don’t know the exact month but, then, you know, I normally don’t, and also I’m not sure exactly how many weeks I’ve been under this fucker’s little spell -“

“ _Tony,”_ Steve breathes, and then he’s kissing him.

He tastes like the cherries he had for breakfast and salt from his tears. Tony settles his hand on Steve’s neck, scratching lightly at his nape, and, distantly, he hears Strange say, “Well, we’ll just give you a minute, then?” but Tony’s barely paying attention. All he can think about right now is Steve: Steve, who has lost everyone, who sometimes wakes up in the middle of the night screaming because he thinks it’s happened all over again, Steve, who had to endure months of his husband slipping away from him.

Finally, Steve pulls away, but it’s only to tuck his face into Tony’s neck. His grip is tight around Tony’s hips, almost bruisingly so, and in the morning he’ll probably regret the wounds but Tony doesn’t care.

“I’ve got you, honey,” Tony says, tightening his own hold on Steve. “I’m back, I’m here.”

“I missed you,” Steve rasps into Tony’s neck. Tony can feel his collar growing wet. “I missed you so much, you don’t understand -“

“I’m here, now,” Tony says again. “It’s okay, honey, it’s okay. I’m here.”

Steve shakes his head against Tony’s neck, like a cat, rubbing its forehead against its owners body. “I love you,” he whispers.

“I love you,” Tony responds immediately. “Hey, hey, I love you. Shh.”

**Author's Note:**

> find me at nasafic.tumblr.com


End file.
